Danakan the Ferret
by Autumn Sumac
Summary: (BTW Disclaimer: I am not Brain Jacques just his fan with my based-on-his stories)A conquerer,mass murderer, and mysterious figure moves silently at the edge of south Mossflower. A destiny floats downstream to Redwall. Another will follow from behind.
1. Chapter 0

In all the lands in the far northeast ruled an evil warlord that commanded a great and fearsome horde. Also at his command is Yeraki and his raven brethen. Long since has his lands the Territories have been evacutated or its inhabitants long slain or taken for slaves. Ruling by stealth and secrecy... fear and strength... he pitied no beast.  
Arrio the Doglord!  
He moves southwest in search of new territories to conquer. Driven by the great legends of Redwall Abbey and Salamandastron. He wonders of their plunder and most of all he wanted the challenge. For no beast could match his strength or wit and he has long since thought of looking for his opponent. Champion of Redwall or Lord of Salamandastron. To those who know him he is known as High Lord Warwolf.  
Arrio the Doglord!  
He who swept across the plains accompanied by black ravens in the sky.  
He who was cloaked by dark of cloud and night.  
He who wields the iron glaive.  
He who has been defeated by no beast.  
He who comes from the unknown of shadows.  
Arrio! Arrio! Arrio!  
Arrio...  
...the Doglord. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
Tragil the ferret waited outside his tent. He picked grumpily at his neck while he did so, slapping here and there, and he cursed at all the rain. Everyone else in the tribe was all warm and comfy inside their tents! Yet, he was the only ferret who was expecting a child from his mate Mayfur. No males were allowed in the tent while females were tending the mother. Tragil spat into the mud. How long did it take to give birth? A wail cracked through the sound of rain. Great, Tragil thought, it's done with. Still Tragil didn't want to come in now that there was a babe. Nervous? Bah, I can't be nervous, he thought. Then again, it was a new babe! His babe. Maybe a son to hunt for him. A son to take care of his old daddy. Yes, that sounded good. Tragil cleared his throat in the rain and called into the tent.  
"Mayfur? Kroop? Pyshanks? The babe be male or female?"  
Kroop the old female rat poked her head partially out of the tent flap to answer. Kroop began shooing Tragil away.  
"It's a wailin' female sir, best ye stay out 'eres 'cause ye'd get deafened in 'eres!"  
Tragil kicked at a mud clod, painfully learning that it wasn't a clod but a rock, and he spat again into the mud as he rubbed his footpaw. No son. Just a daughter. What good was that? Hours out in the rain and he got a daughter? Tragil angrily stomped into the tent and smashed Pyshank's tail in the process.  
"Yowowch! Wos yer problem yeh worm?"  
"None o' yer business wench," Tragil snarled.  
The new father looked over the grass weaved basket at a little sniffling ferretbabe. He snorted. The female babe looked up at her father with wide eyes filled with wonder. His face softened.  
"Aww, ain't tha' a purty lil tyke," he cooed gruffly, "'Ello there, I'm ye father!"  
He bent down and was about to attempt to tickle his newborn daughter until the ferretbabe, seeing something nasty looking was about to touch her, bit his finger and wailed uproarously. Tragil fell back from the noise nursing his finger and his ear.  
"Yaaah! The lil worm, shut it up!"  
Stifling laughter Kroop rocked the cradle slowly and the wailing stopped. Tragil rubbed his ears.  
"Hah hah! Ye hear tha'? The babe cried when he told 'er he was 'er daddy!"  
Pyshanks slapped her thigh and laughed. Tragil bopped the old stoat on the head to make her quiet. Mayfur opened one eye to look at the scene.  
"Quiet down, I'm tryin' to get me sleep 'ere. I'm tired from birthin'," Mayfur said.  
Pyshanks and Kroop continued tending to the babe and the mother while Tragil crawled into his sleeping mat and blanket. He rolled his back to the rest of them muttering to himself.  
"I'll get rid o' tha' stupid offspring o' yers Mayfur."  
  
It was early in the morning when Tragil awoke to hear the babe frettfully sleeping. He got up quietly and slowly so as if not to awaken them all. He took out his knife to cut the babe's throat. The blade hovered over the babe's throat. His hand quaked slightly as he looked at the sleeping bundle. Tragil may have been vermin, but he had his limits. He felt angry again at himself for not having the heart to kill a measly babe. He thought for a while as he sheathed his knife. Then an idea hit him. Tragil picked up the cradle carefully and nimbly snuck out of the tent. He walked for a long time until he reached the river thinking proudly at himself. He would just set the babe into the river and let it float away or sink. It wouldn't be his fault the babe wasn't an otter. Hah hah! Tragil lightly dropped the cradle into the river letting it be taken away by the current. Tragil followed for a short distance along the babe before stopping to wave.  
"G'bye yeh stinkin' babby! Daddy and mummy'll miss yer. Say hi to the fishes fer me!"  
Tragil walked away. The ferretbabe didn't stir as she was taken down the river by the currents.  
  
Being a stolen otter crafted cradle, it was well made with all the grass woven tight, and it floated too. The cradle bobbed up and down and to the sleeping ferretbabe, the movements of the current made it seem like someone was rocking the cradle. In the middle of the day was when the cradle struck an out hanging broken branch. The ferretbabe wailed immediately. Now awake, she felt hungry and much too warm. The babe cried so loud that a nearby family of squirrels heard her. They had been picnicking in the meadow nearby, and indeed, the noise was deafening. Twigg, the youngest daughter, decided that it was a baby crying.  
"Mum! Mum! I don't tink that's a toad being squashed by a log! I tinks it a likkle babe!"  
The father squirrel unplugged his ears and the rest of the squirrel family followed. They all looked in the direction of the screaming. Twigg ran to the sound. The mother squirrel Peachrose made a movement as if to stop her little daughter.  
"Twigg wait! What if it's an eagle to tear thee to pieces?"  
"Oh! Mum, Dad, Rooty! It is a likkle babby! Inna river! Oh 'elp! Migh' be drownded soooon!"  
The father Beechfarl rushed into the scene. Peachrose screamed and Rooty gasped. The log looked as if to bob up letting the cradle in. The log could pound the exposed babe into the rushing deep water! Beechfarl climbed onto the broken tree limb carefully, but he had to get off slowly holding it down. He was too heavy. He beckoned to his son Rooty. Rooty immediately rushed to the broken tree branch. Rooty crawled nimbly to the baby's cradle. The cradle was too big for Rooty to pick up, and if not he could fall into the river with the babe. Rooty took the cradle's handle and began pulling it backwards as he crawled to his father. With one final tug at the base of the tree he fell back onto the grass with the cradle safely at his side. Twiggs cheered happily.  
"Oh Rooty thee saved the likkle babby!"  
"I'm proud of thee son," Peachrose commented while teasing away the babe's blankets.  
Everyone crowded in to see what kind of a babe it was. Twigg wrinkled her nose at the unveiling. Rooty remained silent. Beechfarl scratched his head.  
"It's a ferretbabe, a vermin must've thrown his child out into the river."  
"Oh how cruel vermin are!"  
Peachrose began rubbing the little ferretbabe's paws. The babe stopped crying and began whimpering. The ferretbabe was hungry. Peachrose immediately felt her maternal instincts rise and picked up the babe into her arms. Twigg, being so young, had never exactly hated anything at all and was too young to understand about vermin. Twigg tweaked the ferretbabe's paw.  
"Aww, she's a luverly likkle feller. Can we keep 'er?"  
Beechfarl and Peachrose exchanged looks with each other. Peachrose, being a mother and all stared firmly at Beechfarl. She stubbornly was rocking the babe with a coy smile. Beechfarl frustratingly was stared down and began walking off. Peachrose grinned now. She chuckled at the thought of her softhearted husband refusing to take in an abanndoned babe. Vermin child or no.  
"Come along," Peachrose called to her children, "We've got to take your new sister home."  
Twiggs was overjoyed.  
"We can keep 'er? Yaaay!"  
Rooty began following his mother back home at her side looking at the little ferretbabe.  
"Gee, I wonder why Dad didn't say nothin'!" 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Five or so seasons had passed. Luckily for the squirrel family the adopted ferretbabe posed no real threat to their small family. The young ferretbabe had been named Autumn for it had been the season when Beechfarl's family found her. Seasons had passed and it became autumn again. she held no similarities to a vermin ferret for she had been very young when she was brought up by squirrels. Thus, she acted like a squirrel would. Autumn and her bother and sister were up in a tree giggling. They had been waiting for their mother to come back and it was Twigg's idea to pick fruit and surprise Peachrose with the sacks they had filled with apples, plums, peaches, and ripe berries for maybe a thank you pudding. Maybe even a pie from Mum! The leaves in the tree shook as the three struggled to hold their bulging sacks of fruit chuckling merrily at each other as young ones do.  
"Rooty don't drop the sack!"  
"I'm strong enough Twiggs!"  
"Quiet you two, Mum is coming baaack!"  
"Shhhh!"  
Peach rose neared their home that was a hollow tree trunk with a burrow underneath. Her paws felt lightly about since their door was craftily hidden in moss. She smiled. Peachrose had heard her young ones in the tree and indeed knew what nice surprise they had for her. They deserved some lovely desert for lunch. They leapt down from the tree with their sacks.  
"Surprise Mum!"  
"We picked these for thee!"  
"Can we have pudding? Pie? Cake?"  
The three looked imploringly at Peachrose and she acted as if she were surprised. She smiled broadly looking in each sack of fruit.  
"Oh my, what nice children," she said, "Indeed! Thee need something to fill thy stomachs up after all that work for thy mother."  
"Yay!"  
  
It was dinnertime and the sun had began to set. Peachrose had certainly baked each child's favorite desert and set it all before them after they had eaten their onion 'n leek stew. Rooty wiped his bowl of stew with a chunk of bread and licked up what was left. Beechfarl was finishing his dinner slowly like his wife while the young ones did all the fast scoffing.  
"Rooty! Don't eat so fast! Ye'll get a tummyache!"  
"Autumn I betcha I can eat this pie up before thou does!"  
"Thy tummy is doin' all the thinkin' for thine head Rooty!"  
Oh what a merry and cheery time this was!  
The family was very much loud and vermin were lurking about listening in. They were watching and they lurked quietly outside.  
  
They could hear and pinpointed out where the squirrelfamily was. They hung about at a good distance in the bushes and trees. A stoat sniffed the air for the scent of food.  
"Aahh, do yeh smell that? They're havin' pies while we poar beasts tuck in only grass!"  
"Yeeheehee! They are rather mean beasts eating well while we dun't!"  
"Yah, let's teach'em a lesson!"  
The stoat Grektooth who was obviously the leader brought down his fist on a rat. The rat fell back stunned from the surprised blow from Grektooth.  
"Quiet ye fools! They'm squirrels be awakes! We'cin get 'em in the mornin' whilst they sleep an' dream!"  
"Why don't we gettem now an' eatty up their vittles? I be starvin'!"  
Grektooth slamned a short sword through Fitchy the weasle who spoke and pulled back out his sword wiping it on the grass. He shot a sharp warning look at any of his group that looked as if to speak. All of them looked away.  
"Good, now yeh all shaddup or I'll run yeh over wiv me blade," Grektooth whispered hoarsely, "Now we're gonna kill'em squirrels inna the mornin', anybeast who has a better idea can c'mere with Fitchy an' have a nice chat wiv him behind Dark Forest gates!"  
Grektooth spat at the roots of a tree and whispered instructions to his small horde that night.  
  
That early morning Rooty, Twiggs and Autumn set out again to pick berries with grass woven baskets each. None were aware of what would happen back at their beloved home. They we far enough into the woods when the blissful silence of Mossflower were broken by screams and laughs. The young ones' heads snapped up from their berry picking at the shock. They were at least a mile from home because they had wandered around so much. Weapons cracked the air sending the sound of death. Rooty shouted and ran back to the home straight into the midsts of evilbeasts. Autumn grabbed Twiggs and hauled her into a bush making sure they were well hidden. Twiggs struggled and shivered crying. There was no need to see what had happened they knew what had occurred. Autumn swallowed hard and kept her paw clapped over Twigg's mouth and her arm around Twigg's waist.  
"Shhh Twiggs, if they'd... do that to Mum... and Daddy...Rooty too...they'd would to us."  
There must have been a large group traveling by. Autumn's home had been in their way. Vermin were never friendly with no vittles. Even so, they would have raided the innocent home anyway. Not long after Autumn had spoken, the blood flecked vermin passed the bush they were hidding in.  
"Chief! Weren't there more o' them squirrels?"  
"Naaaaw I dun't think so, but 'oo cares, we got our loot an' vittles! No young beast 'ere can stand against me, Grektooth!"  
"Good, save the best fer our smug lord Arrio. We gotta report back now."  
There was a hint of a sneer emphasized in the word lord. Grektooth snapped and gathered his foraging group and they headed past. Twiggs never saw such atrocity in her life as the vermin party passed with some carrying blood laden weapons. Slavebeasts trailed behind with branches to sweep away the tracks and to kick dirt over any dripping blood. Autumn's paw was now wet with Twigg's tears. Autumn didn't grieve like that. Instead she felt angered. What did her family ever do to them? Though Autumn fought down the urge to come out of the bush and try to fight Grektooth. She knew she'd never stand a chance. So what was there for them now? The two waited there until an hour after noon. Twiggs had fallen asleep, probably to wake up and hope it was a nightmare. Autumn lay her sister aside under the bush and crawled out. She began walking back to the home she used to live in in order to bury her parents and her brother Rooty. She then walked faster and faster until she ran. Her eyes were watering. Why did her family have to die? She tried not to stare at the broken remnants of her home as she walked to it. Rooty and Beechfarl lay sprawled dead on the ground. She let out one silent dry sob and picked up her father's shovel from his hand. It had been the only weapon like object he owned and yet all the vermin had much more wicked things and companions to defend themselves. Peachrose, Beechfarl, and Rooty were surrounded. With her father's shovel she began to dig a grave at the right of the ruined home. For perhaps an hour she dug and dug. No separate graves, a family had to be together. It was as deep and wide as she could make it. She dropped the shovel aside and with her shaking aching paws she dragged her father into the grave. His blood was cold upon her paws. Her tears dropped upon his fur as she lay him gently into the grave. Next was Rooty. She dragged his heavy limp body into the grave and lay him next to Beechfarl. Then with her heart tightening hard she walked into her home. Furniture broken, broken pottery, and there on the floor lay her mother slain and beaten. She fell on her knees and cried. Autumn gathered the still cold form to her. Peachrose was a kind loving mother and Autumn and Twiggs never got to say good bye. No one did to each other. Slain one by one. She wept into her mother's apron, splotched with blood and pie batter. Peachrose had been readying for pie. Autumn heaved and strained to half carry and half drag her mother to the grave. A hole in the dark deep earth. Autumn positioned all three together as if they had been sleeping. Peachrose and Beechfarl's arms were around Rooty and Rooty's paws touched theirs. Autumn took what good flowers there were left from her mother's trampled garden and threw them into the grave. She was about to turn around to gather more flowers until she saw another set of paws dropping flowers into the grave. It was Twiggs. Her eyes were tear filled like Autumn's.  
"Dost thee think they would've liked the flowers Autumn?"  
"Yes Twiggs, I think they would."  
"Why did they have to die?"  
"I don't know Twiggs, but we should leave soon. There is nothing here for us now."  
Twiggs helped Autumn scoop the loamy earth into the grave. The two were both silent and uncertain of what would happen to them next. At the foot of the grave that contained their family, Twiggs said an elegy for the short melancholy funeral.  
  
"There is no magic  
To bring thee back  
Now our lives will always lack  
Our mother, our father, our brother  
Perhaps there will be a way  
When I meet thee again some summer day."  
  
They began traveling from there. They carried with them their baskets of berries though they left Rooty's basket at the foot of the grave. The two had heard of many stories of Redwall Abbey and so that was where they were bound with nothing but their hope to guide them. 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Grektooth and his restless band retired into camp at the foot of the mountain. There were caves that had belonged to bats, now slain and being roasted on spits by the hungry vermin. All of them, murdered so none was left surviving. Arrio the Doglord wanted to witnesses left alive. When many of his horde occupied caves together, he and his vixen seer held separate ones in which to reside. Together by a bright orange flame fire they sat. Far into the depths of the dark shadowed cave. Arrio sat on one side and Oleander the vixen sat on the other. She chanted almost inaudibly in her slurred murmuring voice. Arrio strained his ears to hear the vixen's eerie words as she shook her short staff. He could not keep his eyes of of that staff. An odd item carved from the bone of an unknown animal and decorated with strings of fangs attached. Inside of it, he couldn't figure out what made the staff hiss and rattle. Oleander threw a pawful of powdered herbs into the fire and it flashed a brilliant green for a split moment. Arrio's eyes burned. Her voice grew louder and lightly resounded off the damp walls of the cave. Painted orange and red from the fire.  
  
"Visions, dreams come to me  
I am but Oleander  
Future is what I seek to see  
Obey me, I, Oleander."  
  
All the time her eyes had been closed as she chanted. Arrio had peered closer at her as Oleander went very still. He was wondering if the vixen had died. She was quiet and still as still. He waited. Nothing happened. Arrio leaned in closer and was about to tap her with his paw. Oleander howled loudly and the frightful sound echoed again and again off the walls. Suddenly her eyes opened wide with a wild intense look staring into Arrio's. He withdrew himself and sat down farther away, trying to hide his shock and his fear. Her voice was flat and haunting as she recited her vision as if possesed.   
  
"Beware o' the ferret Betrayer m'lord  
Who is destined to wield a mouse warrior's sword  
His eyes shall be the color of flames  
The one known by so many names  
Young he is now and with coat of red  
Because of him someday you may lie dead."  
  
His mouth was a stern line as he processed the words. Oleander rocked back and forth as she stared into the flames. Arrio usually did not want to ask any silly questions. He often answered them for himself before he wanted to be sure. His voice was soft and reasonable as he spoke.  
"So... a ferret in my horde is a traitor. He'll wield some mouse's sword, orange---no... the flames were---green eyes, alot of names and a coat of red. He's going to kill me?  
"Yes my lord. You are forgetting the prophecy also states it's a young one. Presumably male."  
Arrio shrugged. This vision of Oleander's was very ridiculous but he underestimated nothing. One mistake and everything would go wrong. If he heard her say a flower would kill him he'd have his horde trample any blossoming plant they came by for miles and miles around. The thing was, red coat of fur, or a cloth red coat? He dismissed his thought aside. Arrio stood up and walked outside. He beckoned to Yeraki, captain of his raven troop, and also motioned to Grektooth, captain of his vermin horde. Arrio pulled them aside into the cave as they bowed their heads to him. He whispered only for their ears.  
"Slay all the young ferret males."  
Grektooth almost let his stoic scarred face show distress, for he, had a son.  
"All o' them Sire?"  
"You know the drill. Spare none."  
Grektooth nodded with a grim look and walked out of the cave to search for his son. Yeraki dipped his beak and flew off overhead to inform his officers. After that there would be no hope for any to live. Grektooth casually walked faster and took longer strides as he made his way through the camps and crowds. He wasn't too fond of his son and no vermin really loved their relations, but Rakken was his. No beast could take anything from Grektooth, not even a measly little offspring that couldn't even squash a bug. He spotted Ferin shuffling by him, trying with difficulty to keep up. Ferin was his spy. Grektooth glanced about and walked behind a tent with Ferin following, from the corner of his mouth Grektooth began to ask Ferin for his information. Grektooth always had Ferin and many others to spy on Arrio and Oleander when they were together somewhere. That meant they were discussing things and Grektooth didn't want to miss anything. Any business made with that nasty maroon dyed vixen meant death. Always death. This time it would be the young ones. Ferin the rat was a skinny small fellow often left unnoticed. This was why he was appointed the spy.  
"Wot ja 'ear?"  
Ferin whispered harshly in a low crackly voice which suited him, "Sssire, therrre be a prophessssy. A ferrrret male in red coat with many name kill Arrio sssssomeday."  
"Aye?"  
"Yessirrr."  
"Good work Ferin," Grektooth said and dismissed the odd creature from his sight.  
Now there was more of a reason to save his son. Yes, his son was called many a name. Softheart, Woodlander, Idiot, Moron, and Daisy-picker. Most of all his son adorned a red coat. It was harder to spot now with all the dirt and mud stains caked upon it. Grektooth hurried to his tent and looked for his son. As usual just sitting there upon his makeshift bed brooding. Grektooth grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him up. He tugged his son out of the tent and pushed Rakken to run into the woods Rakken struggled lightly and grunted with protest.  
"'Ey! Wotjer doin' tha' fer Dad?"  
Grektooth snorted and looked around in case they were being watched. He spat at his son's feet and gestured for his son to go. Rakken's voice was often so soft and gentle. It made Grektooth sick, but if his son lived. Rakken may come back and Oleander's prophecy would be fulfilled. Arrio would be gone and Grektooth could take command.  
"Jiss go Rakken. Tha' vixen an' Arrio want teh kill yer," Grektooth made a kick at his son, "Go or yeh die wiv teh others."  
"Wha' others?"  
"GO!"  
Rakken needed no more telling and he ran. He often hated killing. Swift as any bird Rakken disappeared to nowhere in particular. Just away for it meant his life. He could not help but to pity who else was to be killed this day. Night was falling and it was cold and dark. Night was black. Killing was red. Crimson red as his coat once had been. Grektooth walked away to summon his officers and prepare for the kill. One by one each ferret male was hunted down to be mercilessly slain. All ordered by the Highlord Warwolf.  
Arrio the Doglord! 


End file.
